


You Are Art

by fallingwildrosepetals



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Anal Play, Ben Hanscom Has Body Image Issues, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Referenced Poly Losers Club, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Stanscom, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, enema mention, mild humilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingwildrosepetals/pseuds/fallingwildrosepetals
Summary: Ben wants to try out BDSM. Nervous and more than a little insecure, he goes to Stan.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Stanley Uris, The Losers Club/The Losers Club (IT)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	You Are Art

Ben hated to disturb Stan. He looked so content sitting on the worn leather couch, thumbing through the Ornithology book Bev bought him. Even from across the room, where Ben leaned against the Tudor arch, he could see the bright, glossy illustrations that made the book so special. 

He should find Bev and let her know her present was a hit. He could always talk to Stan later. He slipped out of the room. 

“Hi Ben,” Stan called, voice even despite its volume. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh, hi.” Ben returned to the arch, hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s okay. You can go back to your book. I don’t wanna disturb you.” 

Stan closed the book gently, noiselessly. “You’re not disturbing me.” 

“Oh.” 

He peered at Ben, hazel eyes intense and unblinking. “What can I do for you?”

Ben’s face heated. “It’s nothing, really.” 

Stan’s mouth quirked. “You stood there for ten minutes without saying anything.” 

“Am I not allowed to look at you?” 

“Of course you are. But you generally don’t. At least not like this.” 

“Sorry.” 

He scoffed. “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.” 

Ben glanced down the hallway. They were alone. “Do…do you think I’m too…” He paused, biting at his lower lip. “Do you think I’m boring?” 

Stan blinked once, twice. He slipped the book into its plastic casing and set it on the end table. Leaning back, he patted the space next to him. 

Ben sat down, breathing in the faint spice of Stan’s cologne. He wished Stan would wrap him up like a book and shelve him for safekeeping. 

“Where is this coming from?” Stan asked, slipping his glasses into the breast pocket of his soft green cardigan. 

“Uh.” 

“Why would I find you boring?” Stan pressed. “As Richie often points out, I wear khakis.” 

Ben’s heart twisted. “You’re not boring. I just—ugh, I can’t, Stan.” 

“It’s okay.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Ben’s ear. “I’ll still love you if you hate birds.” 

“What?” Ben stared. “I don’t hate birds.”

Stan sighed deeply. “Don’t lie. I can take it.” 

“I mean I don’t _love_ birds the way you do, but I don’t…I don’t hate them.” 

“Sure you don’t.” 

“I _don’t_.” 

“If it’s not about the birds—” Stan huffed a quiet laugh. 

Ben scrubbed a hand through his hair. Fucking Stan. 

“If not the birds, then what is it about?” 

“Well, I am pretty vanilla,” he admitted, stomach sinking. 

“Why would that mean you’re boring?” Stan’s forehead wrinkled.

“Well I don’t know.” His face burned. “You guys do all this interesting BD—bedroom stuff and I haven’t, so…” 

“Did someone call you boring?” Stan asked, voice steely. 

“No, nothing like that. It’s just...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Why did he have to open his mouth? 

Stan cradled Ben’s face in his smooth, fine-boned hands. “I love the vanilla sex we have.” 

“Don’t you want something more?” 

“There is no _more_ , Bunny, only different.” 

“Okay.” Ben took Stan’s hands and held them to his chest. “Do you want something different?” 

“I want whatever you feel comfortable giving. I’m happy with you exactly as you are.” 

“What if…what if I’m comfortable giving something different?” 

Stan’s eyes widened. “Ben, are you saying you want to explore BDSM?” 

He nodded. 

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly, “especially if it’s to make yourself interesting. You’re already interesting.” 

“I want to.” Ben’s face flamed. 

A slow smile spread across Stan’s face, peculiar and beautiful. “Would you like to sub for me?” 

Ben nodded again and Stan pressed a kiss to his palm. 

“What parts of BDSM are you interested in?” 

“Well…I think it’s—I like it when you tie Bill and Mike up.” 

“Ropework. We can do that. What else looks good to you?” 

Ben stared at his knees. “I really like the…uh…talking parts of what you do to Richie.” 

Stan chuckled. “Noted. What are your hard limits?” 

“Hard limits?”

“Things that you do not want to happen, no matter what.” 

Ben thought for a moment. “I guess no body fluids other than, like…come and I don’t want it to hurt too much.” 

“I can work with that. Is there anything else I should know?” 

Ben shook his head. 

“Okay. You might discover more things to add to your list as we go. That’s normal. I want to know everything, even if you think it might ruin the moment.” 

“It won’t…disappoint you?” 

“Absolutely not.” Stan squeezed Ben’s hand. “It’s not good for me unless it’s good for you, okay? Anytime you aren’t enjoying something, I need you to tell me.” 

“I will.” 

“Good. Now let’s establish a safe word. Think of something you’ll remember, but that might not come up in regular conversation.” 

Ben thought for a moment. “Portico.” 

“Perfect. When would you like to start?” 

“Now?” 

Stan’s smile bloomed again, wide and lovely. “Go clean yourself for me.” 

His stomach dropped. “Can it just be you and me? I don’t want the others to know yet.” Especially Richie. God, he’d never live it down. 

“Of course.” Stan leaned in and pressed a dry kiss to Ben’s cheek, his soft curls falling into Ben’s eyes. “I’ll lock the door. No one needs to know until you’re ready.”

He sighed in relief. 

“Go on. Take your time. I’ll be in the room when you’re finished.” 

Ben kissed Stan’s forehead and shuffled to the bathroom.

—

As a rule, Ben and his partners didn’t do enemas. They never guaranteed cleanliness and were, according to Eddie, pretty risky health wise. Mike always stressed that if you weren’t okay with the possibility of you or your partner having an accident, anal wasn’t for you. 

Still, Ben couldn’t cope with the idea of _having an accident_ on top of everything else, even though Stan would forgive him. 

When he was as empty as could be, he took a shower and scrubbed every inch of his body, even between his toes. When he was rinsing, someone pounded on the door. 

“You almost done?” Richie called out. “Eds needs the bathroom and he’s getting scary—” 

“Shut up, you asshole. I am not.” 

“Yeah, hang on. Try not to kill each other.” Ben pulled his clothes on with shaking hands. He had forgotten to bring clean ones. If he was Richie or Bev or…well, anyone else, he would just walk to the room naked. But he wasn’t anyone else. 

As soon as Ben stepped into the hallway, Eddie pushed past him into the bathroom, followed closely by Richie.

Sometimes it felt like everyone was comfortable except Ben. It was time to change that. 

In the playroom, Stan lounged on the plastic covered couch, clad in a thin black sweater and black trousers, expression flat. When the door was locked, he stood. “Are you ready to let me take control? To put yourself in my hands in every possible way?” 

Ben shivered, aching to touch him. “I think so.” 

“You _think_ so.” And then he was right there, framing Ben’s face in his cool, soft hands. “It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts.” 

“I’m not. I’m just...” He pressed his forehead against Stan’s. “I guess I’m scared.” 

Stan stroked his hair. “Scared of me?” 

“No. Never.” 

“Tell me,” Stan commanded softly, enfolding Ben in his arms. “You’re safe.” 

“I know.” He tucked his head into Stan’s neck. “It’s hard.” 

“Try for me?” 

Ben bit his lip. This was harder than he thought. “I guess I’m just not good with my body. Ever since the…the kissing bridge or even before, it’s kinda hard to be seen, especially when I’m not in control.” 

Stan held him close, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “That must be very difficult to deal with. Thank you for trusting me with it.” 

Ben shrugged, stomach twisting. 

“I know I can’t erase what happened or solve your problems, but can I share something with you?”

“Yes.”

“I have always thought you were beautiful.” 

“Really?” Ben stepped back. 

“Of course.” Stan ran a hand down Ben’s chest. “From the moment I met you in the Barrens and every moment since.” 

“How?” Ben winced. He sounded needy. 

Stan smiled. “May I undress you?” 

“Yes,” he said, swallowing hard. 

“Remember,” Stan said as he tucked his fingers under Ben’s belt, “if at any time something feels wrong or you need to stop, you can say ‘portico,’ verbally tell me to stop, or shake your head hard if you can’t speak.” 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t be disappointed?” 

Stan paused, staring into Ben’s eyes. “I will only be disappointed if you lie to me or fail to safe word when you need to.” 

“Oh.” 

Stan returned his attention to undressing Ben, undoing the belt and helping him out of each item until he was bare. 

Stan had seen him naked many times before, but this felt different. He felt exposed, almost humiliated.

“Stand under the hook in the center of the room.” 

Ben’s legs shook, his whole body burning. Who did he think he was, taking up Stan’s time? Stan was the beautiful one, fit in all the right places, delicately featured, perfect curls. He should be playing with someone radiant, like Beverly, or well-sculpted, like Mike. Not Ben. 

Stan pulled a thick roll of rope from the heavy wooden toy chest. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Ben blurted. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” 

Stan stroked a warm hand down Ben’s side, stopping to squeeze his hip. “I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Stan pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I know this is hard for you. I promise I will stop any time you ask, for any reason. Do you think you can trust me?” 

Ben buried his face in Stan’s hair, breathing deep. “Yes.” 

Stan kissed him, deep and perfect, then stepped back. “I’m going to restrain you now. Let me know if you experience any pain or intolerable discomfort. This is meant to be restrictive, but not torturous.” 

“I will.” 

Stan slid the silken rope across Ben’s skin, doubled it over his chest and arms, and tied him to the hook. True to his word, it didn’t hurt. A warmth spread through him, like being held. 

“Spread your legs a little wider than shoulder width. It should be easy to maintain the position, but you should feel open.” He grabbed a spreader bar from the chest and locked Ben in place. “Everything feel okay? Any pain at all?” 

“An old injury in my shoulder aches a little, but it’ll adjust.” 

He nodded. “Let me know if you need to move it.” 

“Okay.” Ben trembled, totally at Stan’s mercy. 

“How can I find you beautiful?” Stan dropped to his knees. “Have you ever seen your legs? They are so strong and thick, and perfect.” He kneaded Ben’s calves, fingers digging deep into the muscle. 

“Oh my god.” 

Stan licked up Ben’s inner thigh and bit the loose skin just under his groin, hands moving up to massage his thighs, nosing into his balls. “Your cock is gorgeous. The most beautiful shade of dark dusty rose I’ve ever seen.” 

Ben’s face burned, but he couldn’t cover it. He tried to pull his hips back, but Stan grabbed his ass. 

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he said, taking Ben’s flaccid penis into the warm wet of his mouth. 

Heat blossomed in Ben’s lower stomach as he hardened. He wanted to reach down and stroke Stan’s curls. When he was fully hard, Stan licked up his shaft and suckled on the head before pulling off with a wet pop. 

“Delicious.” He sucked a ball into his mouth and gently worked it with his tongue. Ben squirmed, orgasm building low. When he was close, Stan released the ball and sat back on his heels, running his fingers down Ben’s thighs. “You’re so red.” 

Ben groaned. “I know.” 

“I love how expressive you are.” Stan smirked. “You’re completely open to me.”

“Yes.” 

Stan hummed and pressed an openmouthed kiss to the tip of Ben’s penis. “Do you know what else is delicious?” 

Ben shook his head. 

“The rest of you.” Stan stood and licked a stripe across one of Ben’s nipples, then circled behind him. “Especially your ass.” Stan grabbed it in both hands, massaging hard. “It’s so well formed and firm. When you wear jeans, I have to restrain myself from biting you.” 

When he spread Ben’s ass open, Ben clenched reflexively. 

“Nope. None of that.” Stan pulled him close and pinched the loose skin of his ball sack. It didn’t hurt, but it held his attention. “You belong to me. Say it.” 

“I belong to you.” 

“Which parts specifically?” 

“All of them.” 

“List them.” 

“Uh, my feet, my legs, my arms, my stomach, my head, my lips…” 

“And?” 

“My penis.” 

“And?” 

“My…ass. My ass belongs to you.” 

“Good boy,” he said, and then dropped to his knees, spread Ben open, and licked a wet stripe from his taint to the top of his crack. “You did a great job cleaning for me, Ben. I can’t taste anything but skin and soap.” 

Ben stammered incoherently, burning with embarrassment. Stan bit Ben’s ass cheek, then tongued at his hole, sliding in past the rim. Ben struggled not to clench. No one had ever done that before. Richie had asked, but…he never…

And then Stan was fucking him in and out with his tongue and Ben couldn’t think at all, heat pooling in his stomach and building. Ben wanted to thrust, but Stan held his hips so tight he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move anything.

When Ben was sure he was going to come, Stan pulled away. “You’re perfect. One day, I’ll spend hours down there. I’ll make you come until you beg me to stop.” 

Ben gulped, trying to calm his heart rate. “Hours?” 

“Yes. But I have different plans for today.” There was a cold spot where Stan had been, and then he was back. “I’m going to stretch you out a little more, then you’re going to have to hold this plug in your ass for me. Can you do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Say the whole sentence Ben.” 

“Yes, I can hold the plug in my ass for you.” 

“Good boy.” Stan slid two lubed fingers up Ben’s hole, brushing his prostate then scissoring outwards to stretch the hole. Ben sobbed, desperate to come. 

Too soon, Stan slid the plug in. It was light and small, so it wasn’t difficult to keep in place, but it vibrated so close to his prostate it sent sparks up his spine. 

“Feel good?” 

“It feels so good in my ass.” 

“Excellent.” Stan stood. “Your back is beautiful, too, by the way. Very broad and strong.” Stan pressed open-mouthed kisses down Ben’s spine. Then he walked in front of Ben, composed, face dry, with only the tiniest flush of pink in his cheeks. Running his hands over Ben’s stomach, he said, “I need you to hear me when I tell you that your belly is beautiful, too. Fit or not. Every single version of you I have known has been beautiful, and your belly has always been a part of it.”

“Stan…” 

Stan kissed the mound of Ben’s stomach and slid his tongue into his belly button, then back down to press his mouth to the tip of Ben’s penis. “Look at how wet you are for me, you beautiful creature.” 

Ben groaned, a tear dripping onto his collarbone. He needed to come so badly. He wished he could adjust the plug just a little so it was hitting his prostate. 

Stan kissed up his chest, sucked on each of his nipples until he was gasping, then his Adam’s apple, then his lips. “Your face is the most beautiful of all. It holds your every thought and emotion. Every smile captivates me. It’s like watching a living sculpture. You are a work of art.” 

“So are you.” 

Stan flushed. “I’m going to try something a little different. Let me know if it hurts.” 

He stood to the side, gripped Ben’s hip tightly, and lightly spanked him right on top of the vibrating plug, pushing it into his prostate. Ben cried out and Stan kept going, spanking and spanking until Ben came all over himself and the floor and sagged against his restraints. 

Stan released the spreader bar, undid the rope, and half carried him to the couch. He pulled a wash cloth out of the heated basin on the end table and gently cleaned the come from Ben’s stomach and penis. He then removed the plug and wiped the lube from Ben’s ass. 

Ben distantly thought that he ought to be embarrassed about all that, but he was too far away. All he wanted was Stan. 

“Oh, Bunny,” Stan said, wrapping him in a fleece blanket and holding him tightly. 

Ben drifted for a while, warm in Stan’s arms, surrounded by his smell. A while later, the floaty feeling dissipated and left him satisfied down to his bones. He gently untangled himself from the blanket and sat up, ass a little numb. 

Stan watched him, brow wrinkled. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good.” 

“That’s great.” Stan gripped his hand. “Was there anything you didn’t like?” 

“No. That was…that was really good.” He kissed the corner of Stan’s mouth. “Did you get to come? I didn’t notice.” 

Stan flushed pink. “Yes. A little before you did.” 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Ben asked, heart too full of Stan to leave him. 

“Of course.” Stan pulled Ben to his feet and led him to his bedroom, still wrapped in the fleece blanket. The long hall was empty, the only sound coming from the television in the living room downstairs, which disappeared when Stan locked his bedroom door. 

Ben curled under the covers and dozed. About a half hour later, Stan came out of the bathroom, naked. Ben watched him, admiring the lines of his body, the pale plane of his skin, and the softness of his waist. Ben opened his arms. “Come here.” 

Stan settled into his embrace, tucking his head into Ben’s shoulder. 

“I love you, turtle dove,” Ben said. 

“Love you, Bunny.”

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the fluffiest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> This fic is the result of a request. If you would like to request a fic, please hit me up at https://readinglikechickensoup.tumblr.com/


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